In Perfection, We Hope
by Crystallized Tears
Summary: 'What if I'm broken, Bellamy? What if there's something wrong with me' 'There's nothing wrong with you, Clarke. We've just been unlucky.' It's been years since they got together on the ground, and they've never even thought about it until now. But starting a family isn't without issues. T/W: this fic deals with miscarriage and pregnancy complications. Follows my fic In the Light


**It's totally not 2am. I haven't stayed up until 2am finishing and editing this idea that won't leave me.**

 **Technically set after my story _In the Light, We Survive,_ but largely canonical in a theoretical (hopeful) future.**

 **Trigger warning: Miscarriage.**

:

Bellamy's arms were gentle, wrapped around her in the bed they shared. Clarke shuffled into them, pressing her face against his chest. Outside of their little cocoon, the village came to life despite the snow blanketing the world.

He sighed, pressing his face into her hair. 'Don't move,' he whispered, voice still gravelly with sleep. 'Just a bit longer.' He tightened his hold, not that she was even considering moving away. He was too comfortable, too warm.

She clenched her hand in his shirt, bunching the fabric higher and baring a sliver of his stomach beneath their sheet. He didn't respond, already falling back into the grips of slumber.

This was her favourite time of day.

Silence inside, life outside. Peace reigning all around. Held comfortingly in the arms of the man she loved without question, without the threat of war they'd both become far too accustomed to. Just … Bellamy and Clarke.

Her lips curved up in a smile, and she pressed a kiss to Bellamy's chest over the fabric of his shirt. His muscles flexed, trying and failing to pull her closer in. She knew the expression he would be wearing – that half-smile, the lines around his eyes creased in laughter instead of age, forehead smooth of worries. He would have that one awkward curl flopped across his forehead, not willing to fall in line with the others that had been flattened overnight.

She had it memorised down to every last detail, his freckles, the little dip in his chin, the scar above his lip from his childhood. He was the perfect subject to memorise.

Pulling that image to the front of her mind as she closed her eyes, she let herself join him in one last stolen hour before their day began.

:

Medical was never very busy. The radiation had lowered even further during the four years since they'd returned to the ground, and bodies had adapted. Clarke hadn't seen a case of exposure in nearly two years, a fact she was grateful for every day as she looked over the people she was responsible for.

Nobody was making foolish choices, either. She hadn't had to stitch up any wounds made in hunts, nor pop joints back into place when people tried to do things they didn't have the equipment for.

This was, perhaps, the healthiest she'd ever seen any group of people.

The only people who were in medical on a regular basis were those expecting children, and it was as she sent the last of those away for the day, with a herbal remedy to help ease the ache the woman had, that Harper slipped inside with her eldest.

Jordan was nearly two, and a little ball of energy as she bounced in her mother's arms. Clarke couldn't help the grin that came across her face when she saw who her visitors were.

'Hey, guys.' She gestured towards the sofa by the door, busying herself with wiping her hands down with a wet rag. 'What brings the two of you here?'

Harper lowered herself into the seat, arms tight around her daughter. 'Believe it or not, she was bawling five minutes ago,' she sighed, and Clarke tossed the wet rag aside in favour of a dry one. 'She tripped over a tree root. Bashed her left arm pretty hard. She seems okay, but I just wanted to get her checked out.'

'Of course.' Clarke nodded, and once her hands were dry, approached the pair. Jordan looked up at her with those wide, dark eyes of hers – the ones that nearly all the adults gave in to. The girl was lethal when it came to their rules. 'Did she hit anything else?'

Harper shook her head, and Clarke reached out, tickling Jordan's cheeks. She giggled, shifting back into Harper's chest in the not-so-delicate way children did. 'What have you been up to?' she teased.

'Wentiring!' The toothy grin had Clarke's heart melting, even as she reached to take Jordan's arm in her hands. 'Saw bu-fly!' She barely noticed when Clarke ran her fingers down her arm, too preoccupied in staring around the room all of a sudden.

Satisfied, Clarke leaned back. 'Doesn't look like she's caused any injury. Probably the shock more than anything that had her crying.' She lowered herself to the floor as Jordan's gaze came back to her. 'You be careful next time you see a butterfly, alright? And don't go too far from your mom or dad when adventuring.'

Harper pressed a kiss to her daughter's hair. 'Like she's going to pay attention to that.' Her eyes shone with happiness when she looked up again. 'Thanks, Clarke.'

'Anytime.' She flicked her eyes down to Harper's bump, unable to keep the joy from her voice. 'How are you feeling?'

'Better than I did with her.' Harper rolled her eyes in memory of the horrific sickness that had accompanied her first pregnancy – something Clarke had become _very_ familiar with when trying to find a solution. 'Monty's convinced this one will be another girl.'

' _Another_ one?' Clarke teased as Jordan clapped her hands together, not understanding but feeling the delight around her. 'He does realise he's completely under Jordan's control, never mind another daughter, right?'

'That's what I keep telling him, but he doesn't want to listen.' Harper shrugged, before tapping Jordan's waist. 'I should get her fed. Thanks again, Clarke.'

:

Three hours after letting Harper and Jordan leave, Clarke was finally able to consider herself done for the day. She'd had no more patients, but that didn't mean her duties were over – it was time for stock check, since Bellamy would take some men to make a trade run in the next week.

List in hand, she let herself into their little cabin. He wasn't there, of course. The men always spent the days before trade runs in the forest, finding animals and herbs for everyone's supply. He wouldn't be back until most of the village had retired for the night, even with the snow – he was just _that_ stubborn.

With a sigh, she lowered herself to their bed, kicking off her shoes. They landed with a thump in front of the fire.

Madi was around then. She knew better than to leave a fire unattended for long.

As if the thought had summoned her, the girl emerged from the small washroom, smile already in place. 'Hey, Clarke.'

'Hey.' Clarke let her eyes drift over the girl – teenager – with softness reserved only for those she considered family. It had been a _long_ ten years since she'd stumbled upon her after Praimfaya, and every day she was amazed at how much she'd changed.

Especially now, a young woman in her own right. Sixteen years old. It was impossible to believe.

Something in her stomach ached, and Clarke lay one hand over it reflexively even as she gestured for Madi to join her. They lay back on the bed together, staring at the ceiling. Clarke had spent the better part of one snowy afternoon the winter before painting, once Zeke had manufactured enough paint for her to actually be able to try her hand at it.

It was somewhat terrible, but homely.

'When's Bellamy going to be back?'

Clarke turned her head towards Madi, a frown on her lips. It was unlike the girl to be impatient, or to forget that Bellamy tended to lose himself in the hunt. 'Not for a while yet, I guess,' she answered. 'Why? Is there something you need to talk to him about?'

Madi shook her head. 'Nothing important. Just … when he gets back, I wanna ask him something.' She didn't meet Clarke's probing gaze. 'Kina's realised what she wants to do, by the way.' The change of subject was swift, something that escaped neither of them. 'She wants to do what Raven and Zeke do. Mechanical engineering or whatever it is. She wants to create useful things out of the scrap from the ships.'

'She'll have the best teachers, if she apprentices under those two.' Clarke sighed, turning her head back to the ceiling. 'What about you?'

'Haven't decided yet.'

'You know there's no immediate pressure, right?' She stretched out one hand, blindly aiming for the younger girl's; when she found it, she gave it a squeeze. 'We're not going to punish you for not knowing what you want to do, where your strengths lie. As long as you help out the village in general …'

'But I _want_ to do more.' Frustration drove Madi to sit up again, braids swinging as she shook her head. 'I just … I don't know _what_.'

'Madi–'

'I think I need some air.'

Before Clarke could even sit up, Madi was out the cabin door.

The ache in her stomach deepened.

:

Bellamy woke her up when he finally returned, three hours later. His skin wasn't cold, per say, when he slipped into the bed beside her, but he definitely carried the winter chill with him as he stroked one hand the side of her face.

Clarke gave him a sleepy smile, barely able to hold her eyes open as he pulled the covers up over his shoulders. 'Good hunt?'

'Not much. Two boars.' He sank into the pillow with a moan. 'Damn ice had half of us skidding down a hill though. Not sure I'll ever get that chill out of my bones.'

She snorted. 'You're acting like such an old man, Bell.'

'By some standards …' He grabbed for her hand, fitting his fingers in the spaces between hers. 'Sorry. You were asleep when I got in. Go back to sleep, Clarke.' He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it, before gently placing them back on the pillow.

Clarke let her eyes slide shut, listening to Bellamy's breathing as it softened and evened out.

In no time at all, they were asleep.

:

Madi came barrelling in a little before sunrise the following morning, surprising Clarke as she tugged her jacket on and waking Bellamy.

'Good. You're both still here.' Madi's gaze flickered between the two of them, and Clarke raised an eyebrow as she sat down on the edge of the bed again. Behind her, Bellamy pushed himself up onto his elbows. 'I need to talk to you. Both of you.'

'What about?' Bellamy shifted backwards until he could settle against the wall, leaving space for Madi to slump heavily in the space his feet had just vacated. 'Is everything okay?'

'Everything's _great_.' Madi nodded, dropping her head until it fell into her hands. 'I just … I've been trying to work out how to tell you guys something. Something big. Something important.'

The knot in Clarke's stomach tightened, and she shifted on the bed, folding one leg beneath her. 'Whatever it is, it's better to tell us, right?'

'Right.' Madi sucked in a breath, and Clarke threw Bellamy a worried glance. He was staring at the girl, brow furrowed in concern. 'Endin's going back to the ship. And I – I'm going with him.'

A beat.

A pause.

Bellamy reacted first, with a spluttered, ' _What_?' as he leaned forward. His large hand dwarfed Madi's as he peeled it away from her face.

That sight is enough to spur Clarke back into reality. 'You and _Endin_?'

'I'm sorry.' Madi didn't look at either of them, still focused on the floor. 'I meant to tell you … I wanted to, but I didn't know how. I didn't want you to worry or to freak out or anything.'

Bellamy stretched his other hand forward, using it to lightly touch Madi's other cheek. Clarke had to swallow at the action, trying not to let her thoughts go down a route she'd never truly considered. 'Hey. Look at me, Madi. Please.'

She could see the reluctance in the girl's shoulders, but she did as she was bid, meeting Bellamy's soft, dark gaze. Clarke could see the creases around his eyes, the smile playing on his lips. 'As long as you're happy, that's all that matters. Right?'

Madi sniffed, and Clarke lay her hand on her back. 'We're not here to judge,' she whispered. 'We're just surprised. If you want to go back to the ship with Endin, then … we support that. Completely.'

'Really?'

'Really.'

Madi moved, too quickly for Clarke to anticipate; one arm went around Clarke's neck, the other round Bellamy's, dragging them together in a three-way hug. 'Thank you, thank you, _thank you_.'

Clarke buried her face in Madi's shoulder, feeling the shift of Bellamy beside her indicating he was doing the same. 'Love you, Madi.'

The hug got tighter, and Bellamy's free arm snaked around Clarke's waist, holding both of them.

They might not have started as one, but now … now they were definitely _family_.

:

Three days later, Bellamy stood at the side of the truck, waiting as Clarke and Madi said their goodbyes.

Endin stood a little off to the side, shuffling awkwardly from his mother to his sister as they embraced him. Clarke kept watch on him, even as she smoothed her hands around Madi's face.

'Remember,' she told her, trying to fight back the tears, 'If you ever feel you need to leave, we'll be here. You'll always be able to come home to us.'

'I know.' Madi nodded, her eyes sparkling with her own tears. 'I'll radio regularly, and come back when I can to see you. I promise.'

Clarke smiled, stroking her thumbs over Madi's cheeks. 'Promise me you'll be happy?'

'Clarke, this isn't a proper goodbye.'

'Humour me.'

Madi sighed, but nodded anyway. 'I promise.'

Clarke nodded, and unable to hold them back anymore, let the tears start to fall as she pulled Madi into her embrace. Her arms folded around the girl's slimmer frame, and she pressed her cheek against the dark hair. 'I love you, Madi.'

'I love you, Clarke.'

Bellamy stepped forward, resting one hand lightly on Clarke's back. 'We gotta get going,' he murmured, and Clarke nodded into Madi's hair. 'You ready, Madi?'

'Yeah.' She pulled back, and Clarke let out a whimper at the loss of contact. 'Yeah, I'm ready.'

Bellamy nodded, and with one final, weepy smile in Clarke's direction, Madi climbed into the cab of the truck, followed quickly by Endin.

'She'll be okay,' Bellamy promised, rubbing his hand against Clarke's spine. 'Your mom will make sure of it, if nothing else.'

She nodded. 'I know. It's just … difficult.'

He pressed a warm kiss to her temple. 'I'll make sure she's settled in before I come back. And if you really want, Raven whipped up a bug I can plant in her room for you to listen in.'

She pulled a face at that, and Bellamy chuckled. 'Thought not.'

'I'll see you in two weeks?' Clarke asked as he moved away, and Bellamy nodded. 'Be safe, Bell.'

'You too.' He gave her a small smirk, one that had her heart fluttering, before heaving himself into the driver's seat. The door slammed shut behind him, and the sound was heartbreaking.

Madi was leaving.

The truck revved, gears shifting into place, and Clarke couldn't tear her eyes away. Madi's hair was just visible beyond Bellamy, and she fixed on that until the truck moved, and she couldn't see it anymore.

Couldn't see Madi.

She didn't even realise her friends were nearby until Raven's arms wrapped around her, murmuring softly in her ear. Words she couldn't quite make out, but clung to as her friend led her towards her cabin.

Two weeks with a gnawing in the pit of her stomach as she waited for Bellamy to come back, without the girl they'd practically taken as their daughter.

:

After three days, the ache was still there.

Clarke tried to ignore it, then, when that didn't work, tried to diagnose it. No nausea, no fever, no other aches. No headaches, no rashes.

She sat in medical, free of patients, frowning at one of her mother's journals. The only explanation she'd found that seemed to partially match was appendicitis – which made no sense. Appendicitis required an appendix, and hers had been removed when she was twelve.

What other explanation was there?

Nothing seemed to fit. Except …

She dropped her head at the absurdity of it all.

 _Period pain_.

She'd become so irregular since Praimfaya, she hadn't even stopped to consider that explanation. Three months, a new record for the shortest cycle in nearly three years.

She let out a laugh, dropping her head back against the settee as, beyond the door, children laughed as they played in the snow. Fresh snowfall meant it was powdery again, perfect for them to run around in under the watchful gaze of their parents.

She could hear Jordan's delighted laugh louder than the others. She must be nearer the church than the rest.

With a smile at the sounds, Clarke shut the journal, sliding it back into its place in the bookshelf Zeke had thrown together when he first settled into Eden. Pushing back any thought of the cramps in her stomach, she stood and peered through the window.

Murphy was even out there with them, ducking behind the log pile when a snowball went flying towards him. From Raven, it seemed, when Clarke adjusted her stance to peer a little further. Zeke was behind her, of course, carefully compacting the snow.

Mechanics and their perfectionist tendencies.

Her smile turned into a grin, and she leaned against the wall, just watching as the adults threw snowballs back and forth while the children laughed, arms reaching above them as if to grab at them soaring high above their heads.

Maybe … maybe she should entertain the thoughts she'd previously pushed down every time they tried to rise.

She was nearly thirty. Maybe it was time? Maybe, when Bellamy got back, they should have _the talk_? Especially now Madi was gone.

Then again, Madi was gone. Maybe it would be a bad idea to consider a family. Maybe this was just a knee-jerk reaction to Madi leaving. The loss of her adoptive daughter, making her long for a child – to fill the void she felt.

Maybe she should stop thinking of maybes, and wait for Bellamy to get back so she could explore the idea with him.

Maybe.

:

Day five.

The pain was sharper when she woke that morning, a pain that had her nearly doubled over as she crawled out of bed and into her clothing.

The bleeding had started overnight, leaving a stain on the bedsheets. Groaning, Clarke stripped the bed, wincing at the pull in her stomach with each move. Gathering them into a pile, she left them by the door to take out for the next laundry trip.

She'd have to apologise to whoever was doing laundry that week. Who was it – Madi? Kina? One of the other teenagers?

Leaving the bed bare, with a mental note to gather new sheets from the supply store later, she made her way from the cabin to medical. First things first, pain relief. Something to take the edge off.

The settee never felt more comfortable than when she sank onto it, a bottle of water in one hand and tablets in the other. Downing them quickly, trying not to gag at the taste – Monty hadn't yet perfected his flavouring – she relaxed back into the cushions while she waited for them to kick in.

Raven found her an hour later, half-naked on the floor, crying in agony at the pool of blood in front of her.

:

'Hey, Clarke.' Raven perched herself on the edge of Clarke's bed sometime later, gripping at her hand. 'How you feeling?'

Clarke rolled her head, groaning at the pounding in the back of her skull. The itchy fabric covering her lower body clued her into the fact someone had put her in a medical bed, and not either of her own. Why was she in medical?

That conclusion was backed up when her eyes landed on the IV stand and heart monitor, beeping steadily beside her. Blinking furiously to try and clear her head, she tried to form words, to ask Raven what had happened.

'I don't know,' was the answer she received, and Raven's head dropped in frustration. 'I came to medical, trying to find you when you didn't come to breakfast. You were on the floor, in pain and bleeding. We didn't know what to do – we had to radio Abby for help.'

Radio Abby?

Clarke sighed, closing her eyes against the brightness of the lights. If Abby knew she was in medical, Abby would be on her way. And … so would Bellamy, back from the trade run early. But he may bring Madi back, depending on what exactly Raven had said …

She found out the following morning, when she woke to Abby's fingers around her wrist, checking her pulse, and Bellamy grabbing her other hand as Madi stood at the bottom of the bed.

'I'm okay,' she whispered, as Abby's gaze followed the heart rate monitor as she counted to herself. 'Promise.'

Bellamy shook his head, lowering himself into the chair Raven had pulled up at some point the day before. 'You sure know how to scare us, Princess.' The old nickname made her smile despite herself. 'Let's not do that again, okay?'

'Sorry.' Clarke twisted her hand in his grip, threading their fingers together. 'Didn't mean to worry you.' She turned her head to her mother, who looked away from the machines to meet her gaze. 'Mom?'

Abby smiled, stroking her free hand across Clarke's forehead. 'How are you feeling, honey?'

'Tired, mostly.' She pursed her lips, considering as Madi glanced around the church. 'Cramps in my abdomen.' She glanced up at the IVs, noting that the pain relief was nearly empty. 'What happened?'

A glance, between Abby and Bellamy. A frown from Madi. Clarke narrowed her eyes. 'Mom?'

'Clarke …'

Bellamy raised her hand, pressing it against his cheek. 'I'm guessing you didn't know.'

'Know what?'

Abby's eyes dropped, fingers playing in the stray strands on Clarke's forehead. 'When Raven found you,' she began, her voice close to breaking, 'She found you in a pool of blood. In that blood, there was … there was tissue.'

Tissue?

… _oh._

 _Oh_.

Bellamy's grip tightened on her hand. 'I can't be certain without tests that can only be done on the ship, but …' Abby grimaced, and she looked away briefly before finding the courage to look back at Clarke. 'It looks like you were about ten weeks along.'

Ten weeks?

'Bell?' Clarke swung her head over, locking her eyes on his. He was wavering in her vision, tears she hadn't realised she had, ready to spill over. 'Bell, is this – is this real?'

He gave her a weak smile, rubbing the back of her hand against his cheek. 'Yeah. Yeah, it is.' He pressed a kiss to her skin, then lowered her hand down to her side again. 'I wish it wasn't, but it is.'

Her eyes slid shut, and the warm wetness on her cheeks didn't surprise her. Maybe she'd jinxed herself – maybe, in thinking that she should broach the idea of a family, she'd condemned the one she didn't know she was starting.

The harsh calluses of his fingers stroked across her cheek, swiping at one of the tears, and Madi's small hands lay against her left leg. 'It's okay,' he whispered as the weight on the bed shifted. 'We'll get through this.'

:

Abby cleared her to return to her cabin – hers, not Bellamy's – the following morning. He went with her, of course, after making sure Raven was okay keeping the village running while Clarke recuperated.

Madi brought them late breakfast she'd saved, spending just long enough to give Clarke a kiss on the cheek before leaving the two of them alone again.

Settled in the bed, with pillows propping her up, she watched as Bellamy sank into the only chair in her small room. His face was lined, weary, with the faintness of dark circles beneath his eyes. Had he slept at all while she'd been in medical? Since Raven had radioed Abby?

'You don't have to sit there,' she murmured, as he lowered his bowl of oats to the tiny table. 'You look exhausted. You're welcome to sit, or sleep, on the bed.'

His dark eyes focused on her. 'Are you sure?'

'Why wouldn't I be?' She offered him a smile, and his heavy gaze lightened just a little. 'Come on.'

He moved slowly, pushing himself up and moving around the cramped room until he was stood on the opposite side of the bed. She watched him, one hand resting on her still-aching stomach, the other tugging back the bedsheets as he toed off his boots.

He kept the rest of his clothes on, likely due to the winter chill still lingering in the cabin as the fire grew steadily. But when he lowered himself to the bed, he propped himself up with the remaining pillows so he could sit beside her.

Their arms brushed, and without thinking about it, her fingers captured his. For several long minutes, they sat in silence, just enjoying each other's company as the warmth built in the air around them.

Finally, she rolled her head towards him, blowing a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face. He closed his eyes briefly, then turned his to face her.

'I'm sorry,' she whispered, squeezing his fingers. 'Mom and Madi and Raven have been focused on me … but none of them stopped to think about how this must be affecting you.'

'You're more important.'

'Bellamy.' She let her head fall against the wall, and he sighed. 'It's not just me that's affected by this. It was … it was your child too.' The words, ones she'd refused to say, made tears prick at the back of her eyes. His turned glassy, and she knew they had the same effect on him.

Their child.

His eyes closed, and he bowed his head forward. One inky curl fell across his forehead, and she tried to resist the urge to push it back. Her fingers moved on their own accord, though, trailing through the strands.

She pulled him forward, pressing his forehead against hers. The first sob ripped from his chest, deep and heart-wrenching, and it pulled her own sadness, her own grief, with it.

Together, locked in their cabin, secluded from the rest of the village, they mourned the future they hadn't even known was coming.

Abby left after a week, taking Madi with her once Clarke assured them any physical effects of the miscarriage were waning. It hurt, to see Madi leave again so soon – but Bellamy held her, in the dark of the night, as she cried over losing the closest thing she had to a daughter so close to a miscarriage.

It took another two weeks after that before Clarke was able to venture back into the village. Those she lived with, those she cared for, gave her pitying looks, but only when they thought she wasn't looking. For the most part, they treated her just the same as they had before – with one noticeable exception.

Jordan fell, on the third day Clarke was back in the village. Monty grabbed for her, and before Clarke could even consider moving to look at the sizeable scrape on the little girl's arm, took her away with a sad smile.

It became a theme, over the next month. Not just with Jordan, but with all the children. Parents would glance at her, as if considering, and then take their children to their own homes. Or, if he was available, to Jackson despite his lack of experience with treating the children.

It hurt. To think that her people thought her too delicate to care for their children, that the loss of her own would make it too hard for her to be around theirs. More than once, she found herself having to turn away from the village, take refuge at the edge of it, away from everyone else as she got her emotions back under control.

It took three months for them to stop treating her like she would break at the sight of a child, and that was only because Emori went into labour, delivering a thankfully healthy son thirteen hours later.

Murphy helped lift the stigma after he saw her, cradling his newborn son without the weight of her loss drowning her, and people were no longer afraid to bring their children to her to care for.

:

Six months after the miscarriage, they finally had a talk that was long overdue.

They had a place, in the forest. One that nobody else seemed to have found, for they were never disturbed. A little copse, with a fallen log that made a perfect backrest as they sat amongst the heather. The stream ran nearby, distant enough the ground was dry, but close enough they could hear the rushing of the water.

It was peaceful. Clarke loved it, and since Madi's departure, the only place she felt truly relaxed was here, in this space reserved just for her and Bellamy.

She sat, with her legs across his lap, her side against the log. He had his head tilted back, exposed to the small amount of sunlight that filtered through the leaves. His thumb traced patterns across her knees, and she smiled as her hand skipped across the pad in front of her, capturing the moment in charcoal.

He was nearly in slumber, rousing only when she shifted her legs to put the sketchpad off to the side, drawing complete. With a lazy smile, he raised his head. His eyes were still full of sleep.

'I love you,' she whispered, and his smile grew. She didn't speak those words often, only when she couldn't keep a lock on the emotions. Perfect moments like this tended to bring them up.

He stretched his neck forward, seeking her lips with his own in a gentle kiss that she turned deeper, winding her hand into his curls to keep him close. When she finally let him pull back, he laughed.

She released his hair, leaning back against the log as he shifted around until he was facing her properly, her legs still slung over his. His eyes traced her face, even as one hand reached out and he stroked a finger down the same path.

Still lost in the emotions of the moment, Clarke let a whisper of her wish escape.

'Maybe we should try.'

His eyebrows raised, disappearing beneath those shaggy curls she loved so much. 'Try?' he repeated, his voice breathy. 'You mean …'

She nodded. 'Try for a child. I know we lost one, but maybe … if we know it's a possibility, maybe we can make it happen this time.'

'Clarke, are you sure?'

'Yes.' She reached up, grabbed hold of his hand and pressed her cheek into his palm. 'Yes, Bell. I'm sure.'

He surged forward, barely stopping to breathe, 'I love you,' into her lips before he decided to start their attempts right their in their secret place.

:

It took another fifteen months.

Her periods were still irregular, leading to many instances of false hope. Each time she took more than two months to bleed, her heart would lurch with the thought, _is it this time?_

Each time, when she bled, Bellamy would hold her in their shared bed as they made whispered promises to keep trying. Each month, they'd try again, hoping against hope this time would be it. That this time, they'd conceive a child that Clarke would be able to carry to term.

After fifteen months, they finally succeeded.

They realised after just six weeks, when the sickness grew more and more severe. Clarke spent most mornings, and a vast amount of time during the day, hunched over a bucket while clutching her stomach. Her friends brought them broth, hoping to help her settle; by week nine, however, she had to admit it wasn't enough, and admitted herself to medical under Jackson's watch and Abby's regular radio calls with an IV to keep her hydrated.

By week fourteen, she was mostly over the sickness, instead just feeling fatigue as she went about basic tasks. Bellamy made sure she didn't do too much, didn't stress her body – checking stock, dealing with minor injuries, taking down dry washing to fold and put back into the supply store.

At seventeen weeks, she first felt the fluttering.

Bellamy was sat beside her as they ate dinner around the campfire Zeke had set up, laughing at some anecdote Harper was telling them about Jordan and her younger brother Jamie. It felt like gas, at first, and she sucked in a breath; when it came again, she knew.

Others had described it, but there was nothing like feeling it for herself.

She turned to Bellamy, who, as always, was watching her from the corner of his eye. When he saw her face, his own lit up with delight.

After that, the movements became regular as her stomach grew rounder. She'd often wake in the morning, Bellamy's arm over her stomach, hand pressed flat against the skin in the hopes of feeling more movement.

The kicks started at twenty-one weeks, and Bellamy would sometimes spend evenings sat with his gaze locked on Clarke's stomach, hoping to see that tiny little foot poking out.

At twenty-seven weeks, plagued with backache and cramps and a permanently full bladder, Clarke felt something change.

The baby's kicks slowed.

She kept it from Bellamy the first day, seeking out Jackson and the radio to Abby instead. Ella, the midwife who jumped between settlements, was with Abby at the time and able to offer advice.

'Don't worry too much,' she said, voice crackling over the line. 'Get Jackson to use the new equipment we're sending over – the trade run should be back to you tomorrow. It's a prototype ultrasound. You might need Raven or Zeke to fiddle with it to make it work properly but it will give us a better idea of what's going on.'

'And keep us informed,' Abby added. 'If you need either of us there, you just need to say. We'll be on our way the second we hear you ask for us.'

'Thanks, Mom.' Clarke wiped at the tears she'd been trying to ignore since realising that there could be a problem, waving away the cloth Jackson tried to offer her. 'I'll let you know what happens.'

With Jackson's assurance not long after that the baby's heartbeat sounded steady, with the stethoscope he had, Clarke left medical and filled Bellamy in.

They spent the night, holding one another, trying not to let worry consume them.

The machine arrived a little after midday, and as soon as the truck pulled up in the centre of the village, Bellamy called Raven, Zeke and Monty off their regular tasks – checking the lighting, fixing the blown fuses in the few buildings with proper electricity, and building a new IV machine – and set them to building and testing the ultrasound.

After just an hour, Raven wheeled it into Clarke's corner of medical with a grin.

'It's working.'

Raven set up the radio to be handsfree, before excusing herself as Clarke lay back on one of the beds. Once Abby and Ella were on the line, they started.

It was a strange feeling, to be sure. Clarke winced as Jackson smoothed oil over her stomach, then lowered the probe to her skin.

'We've set up a link,' Abby advised as the first images flickered on the small screen. 'We can see what you see, with a few seconds delay. Jackson, can you move the probe to Clarke's left?'

He did as bid, and the shapes took form. A head, with a tiny profile. A hand, fisted and sticking up near the chin. Legs, tucked tight against a chest. A foot, as the probe slipped in the oil slightly.

Clarke's breath caught, and Bellamy squeezed her hand tightly. Their baby – _their baby_ – was on the screen, right at that moment. Their child, looking in those grainy images like any other baby did.

She couldn't help but sob in happiness, watching them flicker, waiting for Abby or Ella to say something on the other end of the radio. When she flicked her eyes to him, Bellamy was wiping away evidence of tears with his sleeve.

'To the right, Jackson?'

Ella's voice was reserved, and the lack of emotion made Clarke's throat close up in concern. Jackson moved the probe, changing the view on screen, and silence fell again.

After several tense moments, Ella's voice finally came back through. 'I don't want you to worry too much, Clarke,' she said, and Clarke winced – with her own concern and with the sudden pain in her hand from Bellamy's grip. 'The baby's not looking as big as it should. It looks like the growth has slowed down.'

'It's not something to be overly concerned about,' Abby interrupted, as Clarke shot a panicked glance to Bellamy. His face had paled, his freckles standing out more than usual as he stared blindly at the screen. 'Not at this stage. There are a few reasons this could be.'

'Name them.'

'Clarke–'

'Mom, please.'

A heavy sigh, and Ella came back on the line. 'The one I'm most concerned about is preeclampsia. Easy enough for us to check. If Jackson can run a urine test for excess protein, we'll have more of an idea. Just in case, I'll leave tonight and be with you in a few days.'

'In the meantime, you need to be on bedrest, Clarke. Just in case.'

Bedrest. Okay, she could do that. Once her breathing slowed and she could think rationally again, she could do that.

Couldn't she?

:

Bellamy stayed in medical with her that night, pulling up an empty bed beside hers. He couldn't quite spoon her, for fear of pushing the beds apart, but they lay facing one another, one of his hands resting on her stomach and the other tucked under his head.

'What if I'm broken, Bellamy?' she whispered into the darkness, and his fingers bunched slightly on her stomach. 'What if there's something wrong with me?'

'There's nothing wrong with you, Clarke.' His voice was rough, evidence of the tears he kept trying to hide from her obvious now. 'We've just been unlucky.'

'What if it's not just us being unlucky?' She bit her bottom lip, trying to hold back the emotions threatening to overwhelm her again. 'We lost our first one, and now there might be something wrong with this pregnancy. I was exposed to so much radiation in Praimfaya … what if it changed me, what if it screwed something up?'

'You can't think like that, Clarke.'

'But what if it _did_? What if it's all my fault that we're having such a hard time?'

He moved his hand from her stomach to her shoulder, then higher, to cup her face. 'It's not your fault,' he murmured. 'None of this is your fault.'

'But what if it is? We don't know what exactly Praimfaya did. I got hit with the radiation. I developed radiation burns – what if it went deeper? What if the Nightblood wasn't strong enough?'

'Clarke, shut up.' He pushed his fingers into her hair, and she bit her lip. 'Whatever the problem is, we'll deal with it, okay? If something goes wrong – if we lose this one, god forbid – we'll deal with it. Maybe we'll try again, maybe we'll find another method.' He shifted, moving forward until he could press a kiss to her forehead. 'Don't work yourself up too much. It's no good for the baby.'

He was right. Of course he was right. Clarke blinked back tears, nuzzling against his palm. 'Okay,' she whispered. 'Okay. Until Mom and Ella get here, I'll not think about it too much.'

:

Ella's intuition was right. Not long after arriving, she confirmed her diagnosis.

Preeclampsia. Bedrest until delivery, which may need to be induced early. Fear racketed up in Clarke's chest at that idea, but she could deal with it, when Bellamy's arm folded around her shoulders.

Her blood pressure was high, as Ella expected, so Clarke spent an hour each day relaxing, breathing deeply until she felt more in control, more relaxed. Sometimes Bellamy would join her, letting her relax further in his presence. Sometimes, it would be Raven, trying to be subtle about her own newly confirmed pregnancy as they sat together.

At thirty-three weeks, things changed yet again.

Ella had explained the potential complications. Preeclampsia brought issues such as headaches, which they managed – until it grew more severe. A little over thirty-three weeks pregnant, and after a quiet day with her sketchpad, Clarke found herself staring out the window without really seeing anything.

Ten minutes later, she was staring up at Abby's worried face, lying flat on the bed.

'A seizure,' her mother explained, when Clarke had enough energy to question what had happened. 'It probably means your condition's getting worse.'

'So what are the options?'

Ella, ultrasound probe in hand, glanced down at her. 'Baby's still looking a little small,' she admitted, 'But it's past the threshold. We could deliver it now, and it would need some intense care for a few weeks but will mostly be okay.'

'Any other options?'

'Only if you have anti-seizure drugs.'

They didn't, and the next trade run wouldn't be for another two weeks. They could request them in advance of the trade run, but Ella and Abby had brought the only vehicle available. They'd have to travel back in order to collect them, and that trip would take ten days or so by itself.

She talked it over with Bellamy that night, trying to ignore the uncomfortable band Abby had put around her head with Zeke's help to monitor her brain for any more seizures.

'So what do you think?' she asked, as Bellamy pulled his chair closer to her bed. 'Do we wait, or do we deliver early?'

He frowned, hands folded across his lap. 'I would want to wait,' he admitted, that little furrow between his brows becoming more pronounced. 'But then again, eclampsia can be dangerous. To you and the baby. The only cure for it is to deliver the child.'

'So what should we do?'

'I'd rather have a premature child than lose you,' he admitted in a whisper. 'We can deal with premature. The baby's nearly mature, so we should be fine.'

She gave him a smile. 'Have you been reading up on this?' she teased, and was rewarded with a faint blush only just visible in the low lighting. 'So, we're having a baby very soon.'

'Yes, we are.'

:

Ella induced labour a little after noon the following day, advising Clarke and Bellamy it could be up to forty-eight hours before labour truly began. Pushed up against a mountain of pillows (Bellamy went all out to keep her comfortable), Clarke watched as he fretted, smoothing her sheets and then stroking her hair back, before going back to tease out a non-existent wrinkle.

'Would you sit down?' she groaned, three hours after the meds had been administered. 'You're not helping.'

'Sorry.' He had the grace to look ashamed as he lowered himself into the chair. 'Just … tense.'

'How do you think I feel?' She rolled her eyes, adjusting her hips to try to alleviate some of the discomforts she felt.

'Like a whale?' Raven's voice floated from the doorway to medical, and Clarke huffed. 'Sorry. Couldn't resist.' She moved in, Zeke following close behind. 'Abby's orders. Distract you until the meds take effect. How about a game?'

:

The first contraction hit at hour five.

The second, at hour eight.

The third, at nine and a half hours.

By twelve hours, Ella's examination confirmed that labour had indeed started.

By fifteen, the contractions were five minutes apart.

By hour nineteen, in pain and floods of tears, with Bellamy at her back and Raven at her side, Nessa Dawn Blake made her first appearance in the world, screaming and kicking as Ella pulled her up into Clarke's view.

She was covered in Nightblood, and tiny, but Clarke's heart swelled as Bellamy's breath caught, his cheek resting against her forehead. When Ella brought her forward, carefully laying her out on the towel Raven had placed across Clarke's chest, they let out near-simultaneous sobs.

To them, she was perfect.

:

She wasn't, though. Medically speaking, Nessa had her problems.

They noticed the first almost instantly. A fusing of the fingers on her right hand, leaving what looked almost like a claw. Then, when they moved her with delicacy Clarke didn't know either of them could possess, they noticed her ear hadn't fully formed – it was smaller, much smaller than it should be.

Syndactyl and microtia, Abby diagnosed as she took the child to be cleaned, weighed and checked over for any other medical issues resulting from early delivery. One easier to deal with than the other. They couldn't test the microtia until she was a few weeks older, to see what grade it was.

Bellamy's hand was tight in her own.

'No matter what,' he whispered, breath hot on her ear, 'She's our daughter and she's perfect to us.'

She nodded, wincing as Ella settled back between her thighs to set to the task of delivering the afterbirth. Once that was done, she lay exhausted against his chest, waiting for Abby to return with their child.

She was stunning. Cleaned, it was obvious she was a Blake. The same dark hair, already curling. A smattering of freckles already visible against skin only just lighter than Bellamy's. Lungs to rival Octavia's screaming fits, Bellamy joked when Nessa started bawling for food a little while later.

She latched, but was left unsatisfied when Clarke realised her milk hadn't yet come in. Instead, Kina stepped in to help, having a six-month-old and providing more than enough to cover two of them.

It stung, to watch her daughter cradled in another woman's arms, her daughter's lips wrapped around another woman's nipple for sustenance. But, Clarke rationed when Nessa was returned to her, she would rather she fed on another woman than not feed at all.

After all, it had been a battle to get her into the world. She didn't want to risk another battle to keep her there.

:

Clarke's milk came in when Nessa was seven weeks old, and just after Abby confirmed that the microtia wasn't too severe. The girl could hear, could respond to sound; it was only the appearance that was affected.

They let her go back to the cabin at eight weeks, satisfied her lungs were fully developed and she had no obvious health issues, and that Clarke's own medical issues had all but disappeared.

'She's beautiful,' Bellamy whispered, as he lifted the child from the crib Raven had built them and left in the cabin as a surprise. 'Seriously, stunning. You did good, Clarke.'

'You had a hand in it,' she reminded him, lying back on the bed with a weary sigh. 'Wasn't all my doing, remember? You quite enjoyed it if I'm correct.'

'I always enjoy _that_.' Bellamy snorted, resting Nessa in the crook of his arm. She was tired, struggling to keep her eyes open as he moved to bring her to her mother. 'But you're the one who went through all the hard work. You brought her into this world.'

'Now you sound sappy.' She grinned as he sat down beside her, cooing at the girl, wrapped in a blanket Madi had brought over on her visit to meet her new sister. 'I thought you were a badass.'

'Language, Griffin.' He shot her a teasing glare, one of his big hands coming up to cup Nessa's tiny head. 'She can hear you.'

Clarke laughed, pushing herself up to his level. 'I would apologise, but …'

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, then peered over his shoulder as Nessa's hands waved through the air. 'She really is, isn't she?'

'Absolutely perfect? Yeah, she is.'

:

Nessa was their only child.

They tried, twice more; the first time ended in a stillbirth at twenty-one weeks, and the second a miscarriage at fourteen that nearly cost Clarke her life. After that, they agreed. No more attempts.

Besides, Nessa was more than enough for them, inheriting Bellamy's recklessness and Clarke's wits, dashing about with the other children and getting into more than one sticky situation.

Her disabilities didn't affect her – she adapted, with Emori's help, to having one hand different to most, and with her hearing not affected, her smaller ear became a talking point rather than an issue.

And best of all?

She was what finally, after many long, _long_ years, mended the bond between Blake siblings, grabbing at Octavia's heart the second they introduced them and bringing them back together.

She was _perfect_.


End file.
